Complete denial, no matter what
by wsinclaire
Summary: Takes place immediately after "Gone".
1. Chapter 1

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Takes place immediately after "Gone". This is going to be two chapters of fun.

Thank you everybody for reading x

WS

"I can't even begin to tell you how much you owe me for this," he said and let himself fall onto his couch. "My God that guy can talk...Man, I wanna be that energetic when I'm 125."

"Shmiel is not 125. Tony."

"At least, Ziva, at least. My God, can he hold his liquor, too. My head's spinning."

"Maybe, Tony, you should have stayed at my apartment, too. You could have had a snoring contest...and you would be in bed already."

"Yes, in bed with Shmiel. Tempting. But anyway, I don't know what you're talking about, I don't snore. You snore, so really, you should have stayed at yours with Shmiel."

She held on to the piano and took one shoe off, then threw it at him.

"Ouch, what was that for? Careful."

"I do not snore. Tony."

"Wrong, David, so wrong."

Another shoe went flying.

"Ouch. What?"

"That is the worst thing you can tell a woman," she said, arms crossed, pretty eyes.

"I thought the worst thing you can tell a woman is that her ass looks big in whatever she's wearing."

"Funny. Tony."

"Your ass is fine, by the way. Great in fact," he continued, and her phone flew past his head and landed somewhere out of sight.

"Careful, Ziva. Why are you so...dangerous? By the way, you sure he's okay all by himself?"

"He is fine. I think he likes the idea of having my apartment to himself."

"Drink?" Tony asked and got up, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

"No, thank you. And thank you for letting me stay. I do not have company very often, and Shmiel...it is important for me that he is comfortable."

"Well, as I was saying, you owe me big time. And you can sleep on the couch. No way am giving up my bed for the woman who had me sit through a lifetime of childhood memories."

"The next time your dad is in town, Tony, I will return the favour," Ziva said and winked at him.

"God spare me the thought of that. I see how he looks at you. I'm afraid one day he'll do something inappropriate..." Tony pulled a face, then shivered briefly and sat back down.

"Tony!"

"Never say I didn't warn you," he cringed and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Your dad loves me," Ziva told him what he already knew.

"God knows why," Tony shrugged, took a sip, and a set of keys flew past his ear.

"Ziva, stop throwing things at me, look; I'm traumatised. I had to listen to Shmiel tell me about your first ballet recital. Twice! And now all I can think about is you at the age of six pulling your skirt over your head in front of a hundred people. How am I ever gonna look at you the same again? I seriously don't know."

"Whatever. Tony. I was six. And I enjoy stories about you when you were little, so I would be delighted to spend the night with your dad."

"Please don't phrase it like that," Tony whined and opened another button.

Ziva walked towards him and with a huge sigh fell onto the couch right next to him. "My feet feel like they are about to fall off. I need to sit down."

"You know we have to be at work in five hours," Tony sighed and closed his eyes briefly.

"You should start drinking coffee. Tony."

"Won't do. God, I'm shattered. Anthony DiNozzo Junior, beaten by Shmiel, the man of steel."

She laughed lightly, and he liked it.

"You know, Tony, most of his stories, I do not remember."

"Probably a good thing," Tony suggested, Ziva laughed a little bit louder this time, and lay down with her legs across him.

"Now, speaking of remembering..." he said, tracing her calf from ankle to knee with the bottom of his wine glass.

"Off," she told him quickly.

"Your loss," he said before he had even thought about it. "Never turn down a free..."

"Lunch? Tony?" she interrupted, then looked at him through half-closed eyes.

Was it hot or was he imagining it? He quickly took another sip of wine. Headspin.

"Not lunch, Ziva, no."

"Okay. I do not think we should go there," she said when she was done eyeing him up.

"You went there before the food arrived, Ziva."

When she responded with an outraged look on her face, he didn't know if it was because she was truly outraged by his suggestion or because she knew she was totally busted.

"I did not go there. When? What were we talking about?"

"You see, that's just it. I don't even remember what we were talking about, because you suddenly wanted to have eye-sex."

"Tony!" she shrieked a surprisingly girlie shriek, and this time he believed her genuine shock at his words. "Eye-sex?"

Tony looked at her. Just looked at her.

"You went there, Ziva. Oh, you went there, with innocent eyes, too," he shook his head at her.

"Tony. I did not go there. I do not want to go there."

"Is that right, Ziv-ahhh? So you can look me in the eye and tell me that you haven't thought about it again?" he teased her so well, and he knew it when she blushed. Oh, he could see the flashbacks vividly reflecting in her pretty eyes.

"I have not thought about it, Tony, and I am not thinking about it now."

"You're a filthy, dirty liar, David," he said and put his hand on her knee. "It's been all over your face for weeks."

"Maybe you see what you want to see?" she suggested, and he ran his hand ever so slowly up her thigh, watching her eyes.

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm right. Or maybe I can't stop thinking about you," he told her, wondering if he was drunk or just plain stupid.

"Dangerous ground right there, Tony," she reminded him.

"It is, isn't it."

"Yes."

"Yes," he agreed again, but couldn't seem to stop himself from exploring her thigh, drawing slow circles, pushing his thumb into the soft flesh.

"Come on, Ziva, tell me again that you're not thinking about it, I dare you," he said, and squeezed her leg a little harder. She struggled desperately to hold his gaze, to stay calm, collected, and he watched her fail miserably, and it was glorious.

"I am not thinking about it," she repeated. One last attempt.

Tony leant towards her until their faces almost touched, then whispered: "Bullshit."

Her eyes dropped to his mouth instantly, her hands grabbed the back of is neck, and she kissed him, and he kissed her back, or maybe it was the other way around, but he really didn't give a damn.

"Tony," she whispered his name between hectic kisses and their joined effort of getting each other's clothes off.

"Sorry about the eye-sex," she giggled.

"Careful with that, Ziva. I swear, sometimes I feel like clearing your desk and fucking you right there."

"Tony!"

"And you know it. And you love it. Now get the hell into my bed."


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

This chapter carries on straight from Chapter 1.

This story is a oneshot, but I still hope you like it. I might write something else soon.

Thank you everybody for reading x

WS

"I am still half dressed. No foreplay? Tony?" she asked him, but did what she was told anyway, and walked into his bedroom and positioned herself on his bed. It looked too good on her.

"You've had weeks of foreplay."

"But..."

"But nothing, Ziva. Look at you. You're sitting on my bed in your underwear and you're trying to play hard to get? You're kidding me, right?"

"Tony. I am hard to get," she said, and he knew deep, deep down that she was absolutely right, but he wasn't talking about the big picture.

"You would have done me at the restaurant," he nodded, because he knew. She bit her lip.

"You know I could have pulled you into a dark corner and had you against the wall right between the Bruschetta and the fish course."

"Is that what you were thinking about? Tony?"

"Only because I saw it in your eyes. And all these filthy little thoughts in front of Shmiel...you should bow your head in shame, Miss David."

"I will apologize to him tomorrow. Tony."

"Very funny. But you know the deal," he laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Ziva sat up straight and cleared her throat.

"Yes, I know the deal. Complete denial, no matter what."

He nodded into the stillness and then slowly put his hands on her. He drew small circles on her naked stomach, then gently took her panties off, then her bra.

"I am going to deny ever having seen you naked."

"I am going to deny that you ever touched me."

"I'm going to deny knowing how much you love it when I kiss you right here," he whispered and placed the softest of kisses on the inside of her thigh.

"I am going to deny ever having let you do it."

"And I'm going to deny wanting this over and over and over again."

"And I am going to deny how good it feels when we are naked together," she whispered, and he took the hint without wasting a breath. He laid down next to her and held her so close, he feared he would burn up in the heat of her body.

"Do you know how much easier my life would be if you didn't have sex written all over you?" he whispered in her hair.

"We need to stop doing this," she replied, but kissed him hard on the mouth, her tongue doing crazy things, and he wanted to forget himself.

"We do," he mumbled into her soft lips when they came apart. "But not now. I'm way too turned on to let you walk away."

"And I do not want to walk away."

"I'm sick of playing games," he pulled her against himself forcefully, pushing his hard cock against the soft skin of her stomach.

"It is not a game. Tony," she whispered into his eyes, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. There was so much he wanted to say to her, like: You excite me beyond my capability to explain, but he couldn't.

He even wondered for a moment if it was true that talk was cheap, or if it was their sex.

"I can't stop loving you," he whispered so quietly, it felt like the darkness itself was wrapping itself around his words and hiding them from the rest of the world.

Her mouth was so close to his, he felt her breath on his face, her hot lips moving when she told him: "I can not stop loving you, either. But ask me tomorrow and I will deny it."

He kissed her then; to shut her up, or to capture the L-word and make it holy, he didn't know.

"There are nights when I can think of nothing else but you," he told her, his hands pulling her ever closer.

"Tony. I slept on our sex sheets for a month before I had the heart to wash them."

"I'm sure Shmiel appreciates that," he gently laughed into her ear, and sure enough a finger poked him right between the ribs.

"Ouch."

"You are in bed with me. Tony. And you are thinking about Shmiel?"

"Please don't say Shmiel, I love it when you say Shmiel. It's something your tongue does, or, I don't know..."

"Tony," she hissed, rolled on top of him and pinned him to the bed underneath her. "Enough of Shmiel."

"You know how sexy you are when you are angry?"

"Tony. I am not angry, but enough of Shmiel."

"My God, David, say it again and I swear I'm going to come just by looking at you."

She sat there, straddling him, her hair falling round her face, over her shoulders, halfway down her chest, and he wanted to own her.

"That would be very...unfortunate, Tony. Bearing in mind how much you enjoy making me come," she looked down at him with those ridiculously beautiful eyes. Smirking.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny ever having said that."

"Haha, Tony. Funny. Very funny. But maybe I just need to refresh your memory?" she winked at him, took his cock in one hand and guided him into her. She was so hot and wet, he almost laughed. Excited, Ziva? So much for foreplay.

She knew exactly what she wanted, exactly what she liked, and how she could get it from him. The physical sensation of it all was as overwhelming as the visuals, and he stopped thinking completely.

"Tony. I...can we...will you..." she mumbled, completely out of breath already.

"What?"

"Please. I want you to get on top."

He only knew that he must have pulled a strange face when she got all shy on him for a moment.

"It is just that...sometimes a woman just wants to lie there and take it," she whispered, her cheeks and neck flushed, and he had never been more turned on in his entire life. She did not just say that! He flipped her over and drove into her like it was the last thing he'd do. Ever. When she came it was on his terms, and when he came, he cursed her loudly, because really, how dare she come into his life and undo him so completely?

"You need to get a bigger bed. Tony," she told him afterwards, her head on his chest.

"Don't need it. I don't have visitors," he mumbled, one fraction away from sleep.

"You have me," she whispered, and he wondered if she'd only said it because she knew he was totally out of it.

"If I had a bigger bed you'd get away from me. I'd hate that. Even though you snore."

"I do not snore," she punched his side.

"Do too," he replied, his eyes already shut.

"Do not," she said when he had fallen asleep, because if there was one thing Ziva David loved more than anything, it was having the last word in all things Tony.

x x x

The phone rang incessantly not two hours later. Shrill. Tony had no idea what was going on. His eyes flew open, he felt hot, Ziva was right there, naked, and unfortunately much better at responding to late night (or was it early morning?) phone calls than him.

Before Tony could open his mouth she had picked it up off the night stand.

"Hello?" she answered, and her head flew around to look at Tony, there was panic all over her face. "Yes Gibbs. One moment," he heard her say, and gave her the only look he had at that precise moment: What the fuck are you doing answering MY phone?

She passed it to him, and immediately covered her eyes with her hands, shaking her head violently.

It was 5:30 am, and they had just blown it.

"We'll be right there, Boss," Tony finished the conversation and threw the phone across the room.

"Tony..." she started, but what was the point?

"We are so busted, Agent David. Screwed."

"Dead!"

"Yep. Dead. Deader than dead."

"Tony. I think..."

"No, Ziva, don't think. What's the deal? And you can repeat after me if you need to refresh your memory."

"Complete denial. No matter what."

"No matter what, Ziva."

"I can do that," she took a deep breath and exhaled fully.

"So, did you spend the night at my apartment?" he asked her.

"No. In fact, I have never been invited," she told him. "We are still dead. Tony," she added, and he saw the hint of a smirk in the corners of her mouth.

"Oh yes, totally," Tony laughed out loud.

"You can always blame Shmiel," Ziva suggested, shrugging her shoulder. Then she gave him a soft, lingering kiss on the mouth.

"Please can you not say Shmiel again, sweet cheeks, because I swear I'm gonna fuck you all over again."

"You know. Tony. The morning afterglow suits you. I could get used to this," she told him.

"Careful what you wish for, Miss David. You wouldn't want to fall in love with me, would ya?"

"I am not in love with you. Tony," she said and raised her eyebrows at him. He held her gaze and looked at her.

And looked at her.

And looked at her.

"Bullshit," he finally whispered.


End file.
